


What I Love

by SoYoureClairevoyant



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Victor, Character's name spelled as Yuuri, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Light Angst, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, not sorry, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:49:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27925558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoYoureClairevoyant/pseuds/SoYoureClairevoyant
Summary: Yuuri notices Victor's strange habits and Victor is so in love.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 8
Kudos: 162





	What I Love

“You’re staring.”

Yuuri had, indeed, been staring. For the past ten minutes actually, he had been shamelessly watching Victor working on his laptop in their kitchen, a single-subject notebook and pen by his side and covered with scribbles in four different languages. The younger skater had actually been scrolling through his Instagram feed on the sofa, his legs stretched out in front of him and his head tipped sideways to rest against the back, when the sound of Victor’s mumbling and tapping on the notebook grabbed his attention. It was just so difficult to look away after that. Victor was beautiful, and Yuuri was in love with him and clearly had no trouble putting his heart-eyes on display in their own home. Unabashedly, he answered.

“I am.”

Victor didn’t look away from his screen. “Why are you staring?”

“Because you’re beautiful. Why wouldn’t I stare?”

Victor tried unsuccessfully to hide the surprised grin on his face by leaning his mouth and chin into his free hand. “Stop it.”

“Nope. As your fiance, it is my right to admire your beauty however and whenever I please,” Yuuri laughed at Victor’s attempt to hide.

“Okay...well then prepare to be bored to death by the beautiful man doing homework.”

Yuuri grinned and snuggled deeper into his seat, pulling a soft throw blanket over his chest and knees. For a moment, he simply watched his fiance mumble and occasionally write down a sentence or two. Then he couldn’t help himself. He broke the comfortable silence with a question.

“Are you translating from English or Japanese?”

Victor startled and dropped his pen. He turned to face Yuuri, still sitting innocently on the sofa, and narrowed his eyes at the implication. 

“What?”

“When you’re trying to translate into Russian, you squint at the screen and sit back,” Yuuri elaborated. “When it’s Russian into something else, you lean forward and tap your notes. You're not tapping so, are you translating from English or Japanese?”

The Russian’s face melted into disbelief. “...Japanese.”

Yuuri smiled and picked his phone back up, nodding in approval. “Let me know if you need help.”

Victor sat for a moment, contemplating his fiance’s sudden interest in his mannerisms and habits. Unsatisfied with whatever ludacris theories his brain thought up to explain it and too distracted now to practice his Japanese, he shut his computer and slipped off his chair towards the sofa. He sat down by Yuuri’s feet, uncovered by blanket, and scooted them a few inches to the side to make room for all 5’11” of him on the cushion. Yuuri continued scrolling unfazed, flicking his eyes up once and smiling before looking back at his phone.

“How did you know?” Victor asked.

Yuuri glanced up from his phone and, seeing his fiance’s openly curious expression, dropped it in his lap. “How did I know what? The translation thing?”   


“Yes! There’s no way you could have possibly known what I was doing in there unless you had a secret camera installed so you could look over my shoulder.”

Yuuri gave the Russian a fond but cavalier look. “Or I love you.”

“You what?” Victor prodded, leaning over him suggestively. “I didn’t quite hear that…”   


“I love you, you dope!” Yuuri laughed and smacked a quick kiss on Victor’s smile. “I make it my business to know your weird quirks, especially the ones I love.”

Victor sat back against the arm of the sofa, somehow both dejected and suspicious. “Okay, the tapping thing, I’ll give you that one. I do that every time I have a pen in my hand. But there is no way you know all my strange habits.”

Yuuri narrowed his eyes at the implied challenge and sat up. With certainty, he offered a nugget of information. “When you’re nervous or preoccupied, you sing. Not hum. Sing. In French. And always the same song. I nearly have it memorized after Yura’s last growth spurt, you were so nervous about his center of gravity changing again.”

“I was not! And you do not have anything memorized.”

“ _ Quand il me prend dans ses bras---” _

_ “ _ Stop! Your French hurts my ears,” Victor laughed. “What else?”   


“I really don’t wanna play this game,” Yuuri slouched back down and picked his phone back up. “You might stop doing these things, and I love them too much for you to change your patterns.”

“Please?”

“Not the puppy eyes, Victor! Ugh,” Yuuri curled onto his side and covered his face with his hands, his phone swallowed by the folds of blanket, His muffled voice barely made it past his fingers, but Victor could still hear the exasperation in it. “You smell my hair when I come out of the shower, try to disguise it as a forehead kiss, but I know the truth.”

“It smells like you,” Victor said simply.

“It’s your shampoo!” Yuuri shot back. “From before we even met! Are you telling me you chose a shampoo because you thought the scent would compliment my naturally occurring pheromones that you had never even encountered or was aware existed?”

Victor blinked. “Maybe.”

“You’re ridiculous!” Yuuri got up from the sofa and strode back into the kitchen, but Victor followed close behind.   


“Yuuri, just one more. Please?”

Yuuri stopped pulling out his mug from a cabinet and slowly set it on the counter, not moving at all once it rested on the counter. Still facing that way, he spoke softly, as if remembering something precious.

“When we’re getting dressed together,” he said slowly, considering his words and the memory they invoke, “you put your hand on my hip when you pass by me, like an anchor. Like something priceless that should be handled with reverence and care. It makes me feel safe. Protected.”

“Yuuri?”

Ignoring Victor for the moment, Yuuri flitted around the kitchen, making himself tea and speaking with a frankness that bordered on disinterest. 

“The thing is, now that I’ve pointed these things out to you, you’ll notice when you do them, and one of three things will happen.”

Victor stayed quiet where he stood. He could tell how much thought Yuuri was putting into the conversation, how much emotion he was holding back. “One: you might stop doing them altogether, which would make me incredibly sad. Two: you might change your habits and I’ll have to relearn them, which would be annoying and also sad. Or three,” Yuuri took a sip of tea and looked down at the mug in his hands. “You’ll keep doing them, but force yourself to do them rather than let them happen...which would break my heart. Because it means you aren’t acting on instinct anymore, that you’re thinking about how you should act to make me happy instead of being yourself.”

Victor took a moment to collect his thoughts, then slowly came in front of Yuuri, holding him by his hips. “Darling, look at me, please.”

No response, just thumbs brushing the sides of his mug.

“Yuuri, your eyes, please.”

One deep breath later and warm brown eyes made contact with cool blue ones. Victor smiled.

“There they are. Love, I can promise you, I will never stop doing those things. And when I do them, I’m not going to think about whether or not you want me to do them. I’m going to think about this moment, when you told me how much you love them, and how happy it makes me that I can be my complete self around you, without censoring my actions because I’m worried I might be annoying you.”

“But--”

“My habits are a part of me, yes? Just like yours are a part of you. I promised you that I would alway be my authentic self for you, which means as annoying as they may be, I am not going to change the little things I do that are apparently obvious to you and not the rest of the world.”

Yuuri’s dark hair fell in his face as he shook his head. “They’re not annoying.”

“Fair enough.” Victor put a kiss on Yuuri’s forehead and let him go, moving back to the chair in front of his laptop. “By the way, we got a package from your parents today, if you want to open it.”

“Really? Why didn’t you do it already?”

“I thought you might want to. It’s by the front door.”

Victor watched Yuuri set down his mug so the handle pointed away from him on the counter, lined up with the other corner. He watched him pick up the package, lifting his right leg in so it stretched out behind him, a move conditioned into his body after years of ballet training. His greatest love placed the box gently on the counter, using the purple-handled knife he dubbed “Adam Rip-pon” to slice it open, and start pulling out every item, turning it three-quarters of the way around in his hands and narrating what it was before he set it down.

“We can put these away later, Vitya. I’m gonna call my mom and tell her we got everything okay.”

Victor watched Yuuri take another sip of tea, holding the mug with two hands as usual. He took a turn about the kitchen, brushing his hand over Victor’s shoulders as he made his way back to the couch. The younger skater pulled his blanket back over his lap, flexing his feet against the sofa cushions as he waited for the line to engage. When it did, he smiled and spoke in rapid Japanese, much too fast for Victor to catch more than a few words at a time.

The Russian stood watching a few minutes more, so in love and feeling so loved that he almost couldn’t stand it. Yuuri noticed eventually. Smiling wide, he pressed his phone to his chest. 

“What? Why are you staring?”

“Because you’re the most beautiful thing in the world to me.”

A fine blush decorated Yuuri’s cheeks. “Stop looking at me like that.”

“Oh, my Yuuri, I will never stop looking at you like this.”


End file.
